


Counting to Ten

by irish_trash_cash



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assassination, But I have no idea how to write well so bear with me, Dismemberment, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explosions, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's long and it's emotional and it's violent, Kidnapping, Light Stockholm Syndrome, Look this whole thing is gonna be like 40 chapters, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia, What else am I supposed to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irish_trash_cash/pseuds/irish_trash_cash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Critically injured after an untimely terror attack, Callen Irving's military career was history. But when she wakes up in a military hospital days later and in suspiciously good health, she receives an offer she can't refuse: Live the rest of her life as a disabled ex-soldier, or join Overwatch, unlock all she's capable of, and become a hero in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Don't Worry About The Pain," They Said. "Your Nerves Will Be The First To Go," They Said.

**Author's Note:**

> “Eventually, the people who saved us become the ones who need saving; and that is a whole other battle within itself.”
> 
> I might be slow to update, but I won't be abandoning this any time soon. Reviews are encouraged and much appreciated!

In the moment between sanity and having everything around her fall apart, she decided to count to ten.  
  
**_One_**. Her breath is shaky, palms sweating, limbs unable to move; she's unable to roll onto her back and make an escape. **_Two_**. _‘Just calm down Callen. Think.’_ **_Three_**. The room was- spinning? Falling? God she couldn’t remember where she was; she’s losing the battle with her thoughts. **_Four_**. By now she’s forgotten what it feels like to be happy, and thinks she might never feel it again. **_Five_**. She takes a deep breath. **_Six_**. Tells herself everything will be okay. **_Seven_**. _‘Just count to ten Callen. Make it to ten and open your eyes.’_ ** _Eight_**. She takes deep breaths as the pressure on her chest builds, threatening to release. **_Nine_**. Her thoughts start to loosen their hold on her captive brain. **_Ten…_**  
  
She takes another breath, in and out. Slowly regaining feeling in her limbs- it's absolutely excruciating. She tries to focus on what’s going around around her; the marble floor, usually cool and crisp, is now hot and scattered with ashes and bits of glass. She moves to push herself up but is met with searing pain- searing pain _everywhere_. Falling back to the ground and starts to panic, willing her thoughts to pull her back to reality. Everything sounded distant, like she was in a tunnel, slowly fading until she heard nothing. The earth was quieter, time felt slower, and she hadn’t realized she had run out of air until she began choking on the smoke that flooded her lungs and burned her nose and throat. She willed herself to stay awake; not to give in to the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

But Callen was never one to listen to orders.

* * *

Ever so slowly, she woke up. The last thing she remembered was being on patrol before the building started burning around her and- _‘Oh god.’_ she thought to herself. She didn’t know where she was now, and figured it was best not to open her eyes or give any indication she’d woken up. She tried to hear if anyone was nearby, but her ears picked up nothing. She resisted the urge to tighten her fists and ball up the fabric below her, swallowing hard in an attempt to pop her ears. But no sound came. _'Damnit. Ma’ hearin’ augments are jacked.'_  
  
Cautiously, carefully, she began to open her eyes, only to shut them immediately to avoid the blinding light above her. Taking time to adjust, she slowly opened them again, and upon seeing no one else in the room, slowly sat up. She didn’t remember where she was- hell, she didn’t even know _who_ she was. The last thing she remembered was the attack, so the only thing that clicked was that she'd woken up alone in an unknown building. _‘Okay jus’ think. Try tae’ remember somethin’ about wha’ happened to ye’,’_  she thought to herself, but nothing came to mind, not even her name. This had happened once before but she couldn't remember any details- she could only recall what happened after she'd just woken up. So, mustering up what courage and energy she had left, she decided to act on the opportunity to escape.  
  
Rushing to pull off tape and remove syringes and heart rate clips, she sat upright in the gurney and moved to slide off the edge. As soon as her feet hit the ground, however, she fell to the cold, tiled floor. Scared and confused, she pulled up the fabric of her scrubs and her eyes widened as she examined long, x-shaped scars running down her knees, and across her ankles. _‘Jesus christ, wha’ tha’ hell did they do tae’ meh?’_  
  
She was able to gather enough strength to reach up to grab a scalpel from the operation table and, looking around, she realized there was only one door out. Holding the makeshift knife between her teeth, she steadied herself enough to stand and tried her best to walk across the room. This proved to be much more difficult than she thought though; she couldn't register any pain, but her leg muscles seemed too tight, and she couldn't move properly. But someone had to come back for her eventually, so she needed to push through it and get out while she could. The only factor she forgot about, however, was her hearing; and she realized this when a blonde-haired woman in a lab coat came through the door seconds later.  
  
It took the woman a second to register what was going on, stopping short and seemingly gasping before realizing that Callen- _‘Callen? Tha’s mah name, isn’t ‘et?’_ \- had the jump on her. It was difficult, not being able to move as fluidly, but she managed to deliver a low kick, knocking the woman’s feet from under her. Diving on top of the woman, Callen straddled her chest, holding her left arm with one hand and using the other to cover the woman’s mouth. She did something that Callen didn’t expect though; she fought back. The woman- who she assumed was a doctor- managed to flip Callen off of her before pulling a syringe from the nearby table and jamming it into Callen’s hip.  
  
_'Somethin’s auff...’_ Callen thought as she effortlessly yanked the syringe out. She didn’t feel anything. No pain from the needle, or feeling of fullness when the orange liquid seeped into her leg. Whatever the hell was in that syringe made her feel like she could lift a truck though, and jumping to her feet and snapping out of her hazed realization, she observed that the doctor had left the room, undoubtedly to warn everyone in the building that Callen tried to kill her. _‘Well technically ye’ didn’t try tae’ kill ‘er. But ye’ probably looked intimidatin’ as hell.’_  
  
Poking her head out the door, Callen saw that the hall was relatively empty- sans a few workers in scrubs casually walking about. _‘Did tha’ doctor nae’ run ‘aut screamin’ when she left?’_ While the workers continued, Callen slipped the scalpel into her pants pocket, keeping the other against her arm as she calmly walked down the hallway, following the ceiling-mounted hologram projections toward the nearest exit. But she forgot about her hearing once again as she turned the corner, walking right into two security officers. _‘Oh this'll be interesting.’_

As Callen nonchalantly tried to walk by, the guard to her left mouthed something before making the first move, grabbing her by the forearm. _‘Big mistake, mate.’_ As soon as she felt him try to pull her back, Callen spun on her heel, bringing her arm up and around his then, pulling his shoulder out, she shoved him headfirst into the nearby wall. As she did this, the other officer, in an attempt to catch her off guard, came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Callen’s shoulders to hold her in place. Callen calmed herself, allowing her muscles to relax and ease herself out of his grip before delivering a kick to his patella, effectively popping it rearward. The guard doubled over, allowing her to spin and land a kick to his side before bringing her elbow down on the back of his skull. He fell hard to the ground as Callen turned to continue walking, ignoring the looks and hurried movements of the workers and patients around her.

Turning to head out the door, Callen was taken aback when she saw two men blocking her path- neither dressed like the guards she just took down, but rather seemingly civilians. The first, a blonde-haired man, mouthed something to her but- _‘Ah can’t hear, ye’ moron.’_ The second, a man with dark hair, said something in reply, looking at the other and mockingly slapping the side of his head.  
  
Callen took the time they now spent bickering to make her way down the hall and toward the exit. She knew she would have to either evade or incapacitate them to get through, but neither made a move until she was right on them; something she didn’t expect from men large enough to charge at her. She threw a punch at the blonde’s jugular, but he swiftly leaned to avoid it, raising his knee up into her lower back. As she falls to the ground, Callen catches his leg and pulls him to the ground with her, quickly recovering and continuing toward the door.  
  
It was then, when she was nearly out of wherever the _hell_ she was, that the other man came up from behind, slamming her against a nearby pillar and pinning her in place. He seemed to yell something back to the other, but she couldn’t read what it was. Bringing her legs up around his hips, Callen pushed him away and slid down the wall, pushing herself up with a jackknife and kicking her legs into the center of his abdomen, launching him backward. He recovered quicker than she planned, however, and as he gathered himself up and ran at her, Callen panicked. Pulling the scalpel out of her pocket, Callen took a deep breath and focused on the man charging toward her before whipping it into his right shoulder. She took a moment to relish in the moment as the blade sunk into his skin and he fell to the ground once again, but it was a moment she should have known better than to take.

Before she could register what was happening, she eyed the blonde rushing at her from the side, but there was no time for her to react as he shoved her into the wall, and all air exited Callen’s lungs as he held her in place. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the blur of staff members surrounding the man who’d fell victim to her shallow blade, and the stinging feeling of a needle in the side of her neck.

* * *

“Of course I was able to bring her back. She’s not some medical anomaly, you know, I do this with soldiers all the time.” someone scolded, and Callen immediately snapped to attention. She was in an operation room- the same one she’d woke up in earlier- and she drew in a sharp breath as she looked around. There, strapped down on the operation table was- _‘Jesus, wha’ are they doin’ tae’ meh now?’_

Callen watched with a confused expression as the few people in the room moved about- she recognized the blonde doctor, standing over where Callen’s body lay on the gurney, tapping away on a holopad held balanced on her hip. Two other workers were with her, moving around the bed to check Callen’s vitals and occasionally pass something along to the woman in a language Callen couldn’t understand.

“Low electromagnetic activity in the limbic system suggests it will take a few days before her memories start restoring themselves.”

“Any chance that the Caduceus could bring them back sooner?” Callen turned to the left as another unfamiliar person spoke out, but she couldn’t see where they were.

“It’s unlikely. the Caduceus can only restore _cells_. Her memories will have to come back on their own- and sporadically at best.”

“You want us to stick around in case she panics again?”

“Most soldiers only react badly after the initial procedure. I’ll be fine- you go back to HQ. I’ll bring her out and rehabilitate her before she’s sent off. I’ll join you in a few weeks.”

With that, the woman gestured toward the two workers, commanding something in the same language as before, and Callen started to panic as they undid the straps holding her down, and removed a long needle from the joint of her elbow.

When Callen awakes, she doesn’t hesitate to open her eyes like she did before. In fact, she finds herself bolting upright into a sitting position, gasping and choking because her lungs felt void of air. She whipped her head around, eyeing up the room and realizing she was right back where she was just a moment ago. Back on the cold bed, clad in scrubs and a t-shirt, unsure of what was happening. Soon someone spoke up- a muffled yet lilting jab in what she recognized as German: _Halten_. _Hold on_. Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde doctor approached, arms up in defense and gesturing for the others to leave.

“It's alright Callen, you're safe- you're in a hospital. You were injured during an extremist attack in London a few days ago.” The woman explained with a soft tone. Callen picked up the light German accent she spoke with, but stayed silent as she grabbed a stethoscope from a rack on the wall, eyeing it curiously before shrugging and putting it around her neck as she approached the hospital bed.  
  
“Am Ah allowed tae’ ask wha’s goin’ ‘aun?” Callen spoke up, grateful to finally hear her own voice.  
  
“You were airlifted from the explosion site shortly after teams rescued you from the building.” The woman replied, lifting Callen’s shirt and pressing the diaphragm of the stethoscope to her chest. Callen remained silent as she continued, mulling over what she could remember of the event the woman spoke of.  
  
“Ah survived an explosion, but… Ah feel jus’ fine.” Callen pondered, giving her a quizzical look. The woman opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, instead turning and retrieving the tablet she had earlier from the nearby counter. Swiping across the screen a few times, she soon handed it over to Callen, whose eyes widened at what she saw.  
  
“This is a scaled diagram of all the injuries you had when you were flown in.” The woman stated and, pressing a button on the tablet’s side, revealed a hologram of Callen’s skeleton. Looking at the projection, Callen began to wonder whether her escape attempt had simply been a dream. The diagram showed she had broken nearly every bone from her hips down. She'd gone as far as observing her crushed ribs and sternum, before looking away from the projection in disbelief.  
  
“How-” Callen began, but stopped as an overwhelming wave of nausea hit her. The woman- who at this point Callen presumed was indeed a doctor- took notice of her shallow breaths and the sheen of sweat forming on her skin and quickly grabbed a kidney dish and set it gently in Callen’s lap.  
  
“You endured a severe amount of damage to discs T6 through L4 in your spine as well.” She replied, reaching up and spinning Callen’s skeletal projection to show a back view. There was plenty more damage than that of course, but Callen was too preoccupied with the hollow feeling in her stomach to assess any of it.  
  
“Then how ‘en tha’ _hell_ am Ah still alive?” Callen breathed, clutching the cool metal dish and trying her best not to dry heave too much. The doctor collapsed the projection and hugged the tablet with one arm, sitting herself on the edge of the bed and sympathetically rubbing Callen’s forearm with her free hand.  
  
“With the help of a few other doctors, I was able to perform bone-grafted augmentation surgery throughout most of your skeleton. We were able to keep you stable enough throughout the procedure, but there were still quite a few… complications, that needed smoothing out.” she explained. Callen didn’t know what to think; the nausea wasn't going away, and she could feel a slight prickle across her skin. She wanted to vomit badly, but nothing seemed to come up; like her stomach was completely empty.  
  
“Ye’ augmented meh…” Callen began, taking deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. “Why would ye’ waste tha’ much time an’ money aun a procedure like tha’?” she inquired, raising her tone.  
  
“We brought you back because you’re a soldier; and a damn good one at that. You gave too much for the promise of too little.” She explained. “Callen, you hold one of the most astounding records in UK Special Forces to date. That’s more than enough reason to bring you back in the fight.” The nausea was now slowly dissipating, replaced with confusion as Callen looked at the woman quizzically, debating whether she should push the issue or listen to what she had to say. “Dr. Angela Zeigler.” the woman announced as she outstretched her hand. After a few seconds of hesitation, Callen grasped it firmly and smiled as best she could. “Now, it’s about time you get up and walk some. I'm sure you'll want something to eat before I start analyzing your muscle function.”


	2. Friends Don't Let Friends Skip Leg Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This chapter is going to be a bit short, but it does cover a lot of what's happened since Callen's accident, and somewhat hints toward what role she'll play in Overwatch. Please remember to give kudos if you like it, and send me a review if you can!

“My analysis of your overall function after the procedure will only last for today unless something doesn't work and I need to extend it, but regardless, it's required of you to start each session you have with at least fifteen minutes of cardiovascular exercise.” Angela explained, leading Callen through the rehab facility and walking her through how to use each piece of equipment. Twenty minutes later, Callen and Angela were on the floor, working on various stretching exercises.

“Ah dinnae think Ah've been this tightly-strung since Ah was a kid.” Callen recollected, a light laugh escaping her lips as she slowly reached forward while Angela put pressure on her lower back.

“At least be thankful your body is responding well with the augmentations.” Angela noted. Seated on the floor behind her, she started gently massaging around Callen’s spine, feeling for anything unusual. After another forty minutes of easing into stretches and Callen was finally given a break, flopping onto the floor in a huff. “Oh don’t be such a baby.” Angela cooed, placing a cup of water next to her head. Callen sat up and drank small sips, careful not to make herself feel sick. “Now I’m sure you have lots of questions,” Angela stated, sitting on the floor across from her, tablet in hand. “Now’s as good a time as any to get them answered.”

“Where do Ah begin?” Callen laughed, “My main one really jus' pertains tae' mah memories...” she trailed off.

“You picked the worst question to ask, but I’ll try my best to explain it to you.” Angela laughed in response, putting her tablet aside. “Your memory loss is a result of your prolonged exposure in the Caduceus Pod. Your mind will start piecing everything back together, the longer you’re fully functioning. Many soldiers have gone through with this procedure before, but it will take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks before they're all restored.” She explained. Callen only nodded in reply and played with the hook of her hearing augment.

“Fair enough. Wha' about aul this rehabilitation? Why only a few hours tae get me a full checkup?” She asked. Angela hummed softly, gesturing Callen to her feet to continue stretching.

“That also has to do with your exposure in the Pod. A Caduceus Pod is designed to repair any damage by grafting a simulacrum of organic tissue and bind it with your existing cells. Because of this, it doesn't take very long before your body starts communicating with these new cells, and restores itself to its previous state.” Angela explained, guiding Callen to stretch her arms over her head. “A few days of rehabilitation at most is enough to get your endorphins flowing, and eventually your body will adjust back to its prior state.”

“So like tha', Ah'll be back tae normal?” Callen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not entirely.” Angela began. “You’ll be able to function normally without hurting yourself, but once you're transferred to another facility, I advise you continue an active lifestyle so the synthetic cells can keep up with the rest of you.” Callen nodded at this, switching to stretch her other arm. _‘Maybe I should ask about that incident the other day?’_ she thought, still debating whether her escape attempt had been a dream or not. She decided to suppress the urge, however, and continued cooperating with Dr. Zeigler. 

* * *

After spending the later half the day cycling through stretching, balancing, and cardio, Dr. Zeigler decided it was time to end their session. Leading Callen through the secondary building, she showed her to a hospital room that would act as a living space while she rehabilitated. It wasn’t as homely as Callen would have wanted, but at least she had her own bathroom and a bed. Placing her hearing aids on the sink and stripping out of her sweaty gym shorts and t-shirt, Callen stepped into the steaming shower, and reveled in the feeling of hot water washing over her skin. _‘It’s been one hell of a day.’_ The steady stream of water washed away any sweat and grime she’d picked up throughout the day, and kneaded the tightness and strains from her muscles.

Wrapping herself in a starchy towel, Callen dried herself off, and it’s then that she takes the time to examine herself. Wiping the steam that fogged up the mirror, she sighed loudly, absentmindedly running a hand over the raised, X-shaped scars that ran across her wrists and elbows. Similar ones are carved into her shoulders- identical incisions both under and above the joints, matching the ones she’d earlier seen on her knees. Turning around, Callen strained her neck to see her reflection, and nearly dropped her towel when she swiftly reached to run a hand up her back, soon boosting herself up onto the sink to get a better look at the long scars running vertically down either side of her spine. Callen took in a shuddering breath, whispering a ‘Jesus, fuck’ before promptly leaving, a hand still feeling the scar tissue at the base of her spine through the thin towel. After all she’d been through, Callen figured sleep would come easily, but as she soon laid in bed, wrapped in the stiff, blue sheets, she struggled to ease out of consciousness. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on something that would distract her. The first thought that came to mind was the accident- what little she could remember of it- and before she knew it, Callen was there.

She was on the floor, legs seemingly pinned under something too large to kick off. Trying to turn and look around her, Callen was struck with a white, hot pain in her back. Falling back to the floor, she cried out as bits of glass stuck into her cheek, panicking when she couldn’t hear her own scream. Moving a hand to her face, Callen wiped away the blood and sweat dripping into her eyes, trying to focus on anything but the raging heat surrounding her. Then suddenly there’s something holding her shoulders, pinning her down. She feels something cold wash over her face and Callen screams again because now she can’t see anything either.

Breathing deeply, Callen tries her best to concentrate, suddenly feeling a tight pressure on her chest. Slowly gaining consciousness, Callen breaks down, shaking and crying, and gripping the sheets below her. It doesn’t take long for her to realize someone is sitting on the bed beside her, and she instinctively grabs onto them in an attempt to calm herself. She felt a hand come up and rub her back while the person hummed softly, and eventually Callen calmed enough to ease back to sleep, collapsing into the arms of the stranger there with her.

* * *

Since she was pieced back together, it seems like every time Callen woke up, it led to complete disaster. The fact that it was storming like mad outside certainly didn’t stop her from bolting upright as she had before, panting heavily and grasping the sheets. Lightning flashed outside the window and she jumped again, this time far enough that she slipped off the bed, falling to the floor with a hard thump. For a moment she was distracted by the dismissed expectation of pain when she landed on her hip, but soon snapped out of it, crawling across the floor to retrieve her hearing augments from the bathroom.

It was odd, being partially deaf. Sure she couldn’t hear voices or other common noises without her augments, but things like claps of thunder were much different. It was a bit muffled, but the loud ring in her ears after lightning struck was enough to drive her mad. Clicking the devices into place, Callen stopped to catch her breath, running the faucet to splash some cold water on her face. _‘Et’s not too early… Maybe Ah’ll go down an' get some tea.’_

It was too early for many other patients to be awake, but there were a few workers wandering about, and Callen took note of them as her door slid back into the wall with a _hiss_ , and she snuck out, retreating down the hall. Seeing as she was in a in hospital, it wasn’t difficult to find where she was going, and within a few minutes she was padding across the cafeteria floor and toward the kitchen. There didn’t seem to be anyone there when she curiously poked her head through the door, so Callen decided to take it upon herself to look around. From what she’d inquired from Angela, the facility was entirely a localized military rehab center, so the kitchen was small, and therefore didn’t take long for her to find a kettle and start to boil some water. _‘Damnit. Aul they’ve go’ ‘as instant coffee.’_ she cursed, balling her fists in frustration as she continued searching through the cupboards.

There didn’t seem to be anyone there when she poked her head in the door, so Callen decided to take it upon herself to look around. From what she’d inquired from Angela, the facility was entirely a military rehabilitation center and hospital. Therefore, the kitchen was small, and it didn’t take long for her to find a kettle and start to boil some water. _‘Damnit. Aul they’ve go' is instant coffee.’_ she cursed, balling her fists in frustration as she continued searching through the cupboards.

“You’re the new one they brought in, right?” a voice behind her asked, and Callen couldn’t help but jump, gripping the edge of the metal counter and swiftly turning around.

“Ah suppose Ah am...” She answered hesitantly, unable to locate where the voice had come from. In a split second, something blue flashed before her eyes, making her jump again and look around quizzically.

“Here ya go. I keep a few boxes for myself behind all the mugs.” the voice said again. Another flash of blue in the side of her vision, and suddenly there was a freckle-faced woman standing in front of her, smiling as she held out a box of black tea. Callen froze, unsure of how to react because- _‘She jus' bloody came out of nowhere. Ye' mus' be dreamin' again.’_ She snapped out of it, however, when the kettle began to whistle, and the woman zipped over to turn it off before it boiled over.

Callen looked at her, opening her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t form any words. Callen didn’t move as she watched the woman zip around the kitchen a few more times, soon returning with two mugs and the box of tea. “I’m Lena, by the way.” she noted, smiling and cocking her head to the side.

“Callen…” she replied dryly, unsure of what else to say.

“Sorry if I startled ya.” she cooed, her light Cockney accent standing out as she handed one of the mugs to Callen before grabbing the kettle and walking out into the cafeteria. “I figured they would have told ya by now.”

“Was tha' you? How in tha' hell did ye' do tha'?” Callen asked, following her out. Lena took a seat at a nearby table, pouring herself some hot water as Callen sat across from her.

“Same as you. Military history, big accident, same old, same old. 'Cept I was RAF.” She replied, handing Callen a tea bag and adding a handful of sugar packets to her own mug.

“Okay hold a tick. Who'd ye' say ye' were, again?” Callen asked, wondering if she’d heard right. Lena laughed and stirred her tea rhythmically before replying.

“You were caught in that explosion down by King’s Row, right? They brought me in ‘cause a piloting accident.” she explained. Callen nodded in response, wondering if she’d gained some kind of odd ability through her accident as well. “I should probably explain it a bit more- I’m… a bit lost in time at the moment.” Lena began to add, gently blowing on her tea. “This thing here keeps me grounded; allows me to speed up or slow down whenever I want. I'm not too used to it all yet, so I'm cooped up in this place until I can use it right.” she continued, tapping the center of her chest. Taking time to look where she’d pointed, Callen noticed a short cylinder about the size of a tuna can, protruding from her chest, glowing faint blue beneath her white t-shirt.

“Tha’s brilliant.” Callen muttered. Lena giggled lightly and sipped her tea while Callen continued to sit and stare. _‘British pilot, military accident... Ah feel like Ah've heard this somewhere.’_

“I saw the footage from the other day. Bloody amazing that was!” Lena said with a surprised look. “Were you like one of those super soldiers they're training?” Callen looked at her confusedly, trying to figure out what she meant.

“Footage from-?” Callen began to ask, wondering if it was something from a OP she’d been on, or something else entirely. She was interrupted, however, when someone across the room cleared their throat.

“I surely hope you two are getting along.” Angela teased, approaching them and taking a seat at the small table.

"Oh yeah! Callen and I were just talking about the accelerator." Lena beamed, inviting Angela to sit with them. But she politely declined, raising a hand before gesturing toward herself.

"I'd love to sit and chat but Callen and I have a very important meeting to attend shortly, so we must be going." She explained, and Lena let out an almost disappointed huff as Callen downed the rest of her cup and stood to follow Angela.

“It was great meeting you. I hope we can sit and chat again soon.” Lena said cheerfully, and Callen flashed her a weak smile and waved as Dr. Zeigler led her out, remaining silent as she wondered what the Cockney Brit had meant by “super soldiers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take this time to explain how I'll portray Tracer, regarding the state of her chronal dissociation. As you read, I wrote her as having a "short cylinder about the size of a tuna can," protruding from her chest. This is a headcanon I've seen expanded upon by many fans, and I really liked the idea of her having a much smaller unit than the one she uses in battle. A popular description, and the one I'm basing it off of, is that it's similar to Tony Stark's Arc Reactor. Her base unit is small and easy to move with, but she can wear the larger unit with her uniform, to improve her performance.
> 
> Although a lot of these aren't canon, I'll be including quite a few popular headcanons for characters and the like, as this is just a story and not official material. I'll be sure to write more notes when I introduce others though, so stay tuned and let me know if you like them!


	3. Callen's Photographic Memory Was Poorly Developed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to bore people with unnecessary exposition of the rehabilitation process, so this just kinda jumps to the last day. I do apologize for this being a short chapter as well, but I promise I'll have Chapter 4 up soon. Please remember to leave a comment telling me what you think and if you have any suggestions!

Kindness is a precious currency; a softly radiating power that only increases in potency as time passes. ‘But kindness does nae' reap respect.’ Callen thought, following behind Angela as she led her through the hospital’s halls. Callen wasn’t an easy person to upset. Living such a sheltered childhood, she was never very social until she became an adult and strove to leave an impact on everyone she came across. After all, her subordinates-   
  
In an instant, Callen found herself standing in the hallway- a different hallway. Dimly lit with marble columns on each side and cast iron chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. Callen was momentarily distracted by the familiarity of the scene before a voice pulled her out of her daze.   
  
"Everything alright, Major?"   
  
Turning her head, Callen drew in a breath and examined the man before her. Taking a second to look down at herself, she saw that they were dressed similarly- in their respective dress uniforms. 'Maddox...' Callen recalled, still staring at the man. 'Haydn Maddox. My Vice Major.'    
  
Callen replied with a silent nod of her head, and Maddox returned it as such, facing forward again and straightening his shoulders. Callen still observed him though, letting her eyes fall over the burn scar over his right eye, the way that he played with his thumbs behind his back, and the way he frequently shifted his weight from one foot to another. 'He was injured somehow?' Callen remembered, turning herself to face forward as well, examining the detailed ribboning patterns in the marble column ahead of her. rolling her shoulders slightly, Callen became aware of an unbalanced weight beneath her arm, and cautiously patted around under her jacket. She was eased by a sickening sort of comfort when her hand wrapped around the grip of her pistol, firmly holstered to her side, and Callen flexed her fingers, taking a deep breath and quickly pulling her hand away when a loud slam rang out down the hallway. Looking to her left again, Callen watched as the other soldiers on guard with her turned the same way, a few tensing up and almost reaching for their own weapons.    
  
A moment later, a very flustered looking Ensign appeared at the end of the hall, running through the double doors and whipping off his beret as he made his way toward her. Callen noticed the ticking as soon as he'd retreated behind the double doors at the center of the hall, soon followed by the loud commotion of screeching chairs and murmuring people in the adjacent room. At this point, Callen was well on guard, absentmindedly reaching to hold onto her handgun as she looked around, leaving to stalk down the hall in pursuit of the source of the ticking.    
  
"Major? We were ordered not to abandon our posts until the meeting is adjourned." Maddox questioned in a hushed whisper, and that's when Callen realized, eyes trailing to the open vent in the wall behind Haydn.   
  
The memory stopped there and Callen, eyes widening in disbelief, could only stare at the floor, unable to register why it seemed to be getting closer as the seconds passed.   
  
When Callen awoke, she was on the bed in her room, lying stiffly on top of the sheets while Angela stood aside with another nurse, conversing in German.   
  
“Jesus Ange, wha' happened?" Callen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she pushed herself up to sit. Angela smiled almost empathetically, dismissing the nurse and moving to pull a nearby chair closer to the bed. Callen took this time to actually look at her. Besides picking up her accent, Callen hadn’t thought of really looking into her more, instead choosing to trust the woman as soon as she realized she was a doctor. _ ‘Can Ah even call 'er a woman?’ _ Callen inquired, studying her facial features. Angela hardly looked a day over 30- not an easy feat for a seemingly well-known doctor.   
  
“You fainted- likely because of the recovery of an important memory. It happens to everyone who undergoes the same procedure as you have.” Angela started, reaching over to hand Callen a paper cup full of water. As much as she didn’t want to sit there and accept Angela’s sentiment, Callen allowed her this, looking at the floor as Angela spoke.   
  
“Ah dinnae blame ma'self- 'et was one hell of a memory.” Callen muttered, going over the information in her head. She knew she was a soldier- a good one at that- and was stationed as a guard the day of the accident. Most of it was starting to come back to her now; the explosion mainly. She remembered standing in the hallway and hearing it. The bombs must have been hidden underground, now that she thought of it.   
  
"Do you feel up to walking? I'm supposed to be getting you to a debrief before you're discharged." Angela inquired. Callen nodded, moving to stand up and taking a moment for her vision to adjust as she did so.

* * *

_ ‘Jesus christ why did ‘et ‘ave tae’ be ‘im?’ _ Callen thought as she walked through the large double doors into Angela’s office. 

“Nice to see you again Jack!” Angela laughed, taking a moment to hug the familiar-looking, blonde haired man before sitting herself in the armchair next to him. Callen rigidly sat across from the two, trying her best to act casual and not start spewing questions.  _ ‘Just- dinnae’ act like ye tried tae’ kill ‘im, an’ everythin’ will be fine.’ _ she yelled to herself.   
  
“Major Callen Irving, SFSG.” The man stated in a crystalline American accent, extending his arm and flashing a toothy grin. “Jack Morrison. US Army.” he introduced, standing to shake her hand firmly before returning to his spot on the couch.  _ ‘Why do Ah get the feelin’ this ‘es a job interview.’ _   
  
“Pleasure ‘es mine, Sir.” Callen replied coolly, smiling back and trying her best to stay calm and not gawk at how his shirt looked like a second skin.   
  
“Now, let’s just get down to business, shall we?” Jack suggested, looking over at Angela, who nodded in reply, still looking far too happy than Callen was comfortable with. “So you finished your rehabilitation. You had a pretty good start though, I gotta say. Not many people can land a blow like that on myself or Reyes, for that matter.” He began, talking almost as if he were telling a story. “Now at this point you have two options. You can retire early, move back home, and live the rest of your life with an honorable discharge- or you can come and work for me.”   
  
“Wait, hold aun a tick-” Callen started, but Angela interrupted her.   
  
“Yes, Callen, hold on. Jack would you mind elaborating more?” She said swiftly, looking over to the man beside her.   
  
“Look, Irving, you’re one hell of a soldier. Now, I don’t know if you’ve worked with UN forces before, but I’m hiring soldiers for a new peacekeeping organization. It’s my job to recruit the best soldiers I can find to work with us, and you’re someone I want on my team.” He explained, his face dropping for once and speaking with a serious tone.   
  
“An’ if I refuse, Ah’m expected tae jus’ retire?” Callen asked. It was rhetorical really, and she expressed this by resting her head in her hand and looking to the side. All that work to become a soldier, and in the end she’s left with this decision. But the road she’d traveled upon was the path intended for her all along. There were plenty of detours and scenic routes, but a soldier’s life is where she was meant to be. Not stuck in some-  _ wherever _ she used to live. As nice as that sounded, she knew there was only one right choice.   
  
“Where do Ah sign up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I should probably crank this out now before I get too into the story and forget about it. Last chapter I explained how and why I write Tracer with a smaller grounding unit, and added that I'll explain how I'll write others when the time comes. Evidently this time is now. Seeing as I'll be introducing Jack and Gabriel soon, as well as expanding on Angela's military background, I'll explain what you need to know for now below. 
> 
> As far as Jack and Gabriel go, I really adore the headcanon that their "super soldier" experimentation is what gave Jack his seemingly invincible abilities and Gabriel his wraith abilities. That being said, this is how I'll write them. I'll make Gabriel an exception, as I don't think he'd use his wraith abilities that often or for very long, as it really drains his energy. Jack, on the other hand, really doesn't have a choice, and uses his abilities to jump in and save someone, using himself as a shield if need be. It will make more sense when I can fully write it out in the story, but if you have any questions feel free to ask!
> 
> Also I do apologize, for a while it may seem like Callen has the emotional capabilities of a teaspoon, especially when it comes to remembering everything about her past, but I swear it will bet better after a chapter or so. Just give it time and she'll be back to normal!


	4. It's Hard To Make Friends If You Don't Have Any To Begin With.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had a few suggestions to start writing Callen’s accent and slang in with her dialogue- both internal and external- so it’s easier to identify her as Scottish, so I’m going to try and start doing that. I’ve never been one for writing accents though, so let me know what you think or if there’s anything you want me to do differently.

Callen wasn’t in a rush to leave the next morning. Or at least, she tried not to be. So as Callen climbed into the air transport awaiting them on the roof of the hospital, she just wished everything and everyone would slow down for a moment.

“You alright there, Irving?” Morrison asked, climbing in and sitting across from her.

“Jus' a bit nervous, Sir.” She replied dryly. Morrison signaled for the pilot to take off, and Callen had to resist the urge to cringe and cover her ears as the metallic scraping of the wing thrusters echoed in her head. The initial takeoff was rather unsettling- Callen figured this was one of the new transport models that could reach mach 3 in just a few seconds- and Callen bit her lip in an attempt to calm down as the craft lifted into the air and engaged magnetization.

“There’s no need. You’re a good soldier, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” he replied, shooting her a reassuring smile. “And skip the formalities; it’s just Jack.” He added.

“Aye, um Jack. Would ye' mind if Ah asked ye’ somethin'?” Callen inquired, raising an eyebrow. Jack nodded in response, gesturing for her to continue, and Callen hesitated for a moment, wondering how she might word something like this. “The bloke ah’ steaked with tha' scalpel a while back- he’s alright, aye? Not dead or anythin'?” Upon her asking, Jack started laughing hysterically, much to Callen’s concern. He did this for a good minute before winding down, wiping his eyes and taking a moment to check on the pilot before turning to her.

“Oh I assure you he’s doing just fine- pretty pissed off, but I’m sure he’ll live.” He hiccuped, and Callen nodded, not sure of how to respond but nonetheless glad she didn’t actually kill anyone. “Now I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions. May as well ask them now before everyone’s _rushing_ to meet you.” He stated with an exaggerated tone, leaning back into his seat.

“Well wha'  _exactly 'e_ s this organization?” Callen asked leaning back a bit as well, in an attempt to relax.

“Like I said, we’re still up-and-coming, and so far we just plan to get a handful of men recruited before we take any real action.” Jack explained. “Once we get more people in, we'll be a full-fledged peacekeeping unit, with some of the most elite soldiers the world's militaries have to offer.”

“Ah’m assuming ye’r entirely a UN organization then?” Callen wondered.

“You could say that.” Jack laughed, “UN Secretary General Adawe was the one to propose and fund Overwatch- that's just what they call the program. The rest is led by myself and and co-Commander Reyes.” He explained. Callen nodded in response, piecing together that this “co-Commander” was likely the same Commander she’d stabbed. _‘Oh this should be bloody mince.’_

* * *

Arriving at the Geneva Headquarters was, to put it lightly, not what Callen thought it’d be. As 'an up-and-coming peacekeeping organization funded by the UN,’ she figured 'Overwatch’s' base would be quite the site to behold. To be fair, it _was_ quite an impressive building- as they flew over she observed the fleet of air transport crafts and training yards surrounding the large, main building- but upon landing she was confused as to why they seemed to be the only ones there.

“Commander- sorry, _Jack._ ” She asked, unstrapping her seat harness and climbing out of the craft. “How many members 'as the organization go', exactly?”

“If you’re referring to the soldiers We've gathered so far, there’s myself,” Jack began, jumping off the running board and dusting himself off. “Then there’s Commander Reyes, Captains Amari and Lacroix,” he continued, counting off with his fingers. “... Doctor Zeigler, Major Wilhelm, aaand- oh, Major Lindholm.”

“... Tha’s 'et?” Callen asked, stopping short and raising an eyebrow at him.

“I mean we’ve got UN-supplied pilots and a few hundred ground soldiers to help out, but that’s it so far. Besides yourself, of course.” He clarified with a laugh. Putting an arm behind her, he led Callen off the landing pad and toward a side branch of the main building. Needless to say, Callen was disappointed. Jack and Angela made the whole ordeal seem so intriguing, but now that she was here, it just seemed like another of the UN’s failed attempts at ensuring world peace.

Approaching the building, Callen took time to observe the architecture; the outside was very angular, covered in white and grey plating, with glass exterior walls here and there. It was quite impressive, and Callen only hoped that meeting the half dozen people she would work with would be equally as intriguing.

“Good to see you’re back safely, Commander. And with a new addition to the team, no less.” someone said as they came in through a side door into what looked to be a common room. Looking to her left, Callen observed the dark-haired woman in the adjacent kitchen, pouring herself a small cup of coffee from a bronze cezve.

“Ana, this is Callen- Callen, Ana Amari, one of our marksmen.” Jack introduced. Callen smiled and shook the woman’s hand, intrigued by the tattoo on her upper cheek.

“Glad to have you on the team.” Ana said with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’ve read your record- you’ve got quite an impressive skillset.” she commented, pouring the last of the coffee into another cup and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she replied, taking the cup. She was never one for coffee- even if it was fancied up with cream or sugar- but Callen accepted it with a smile, taking a sip and trying her best to swallow the bitter taste.

“Ana here can show you to your quarters while I round up the troops.” Jack said, grinning as he swung his arm, giving a thumbs up. Ana rolled her eyes, patting Callen’s arm and retreating across the room.

The layout of the elite soldiers’ wing seemed fairly simple as she looked around. On the far end of the room was a lounge area, complete with a large TV, shelves full of books, overstuffed couches, and two doors; one leading to the rest of the base and another leading to a courtyard outside. The lounge was open to the kitchen on the other end, complete with shiny new appliances and plenty of cupboard space, as well as a long table and a good two dozen chairs running through the center of the room. At the end of the kitchen were two halls. A bright sign above each read “West Wing” to the left, and “East Wing” to the right.

As she followed Ana through the East Wing, Callen took the time to examine Captain Amari as best she could. She held herself high, back and shoulders straight as she swiftly walked through the hall, her dark hair bobbing in its bun. _‘Christ she’s allurin’ as all hell.’_

“The East Wing holds the women's’ bunks. The left door in the center of the hall goes to the showers, while the right is an elevator leading to the gym and med-bay.” Ana explained, approaching a door to the left near the end of the hall, and scanning a key card before handing it over to Callen, who silently followed her into the room. To call it a room was putting it lightly, however, and as Callen walked inside she was surprised to see that it was like a suite when compared to the military bunks she used to sleep in. Sure it was small, but there was a rather comfortable-looking queen size bed in the center of the room, in front of a wide array of windows. To the right was a dresser, closet and a sink and mirror, while the left contained a desk with two wall-mounted monitors, bookshelf, and two canvas armchairs.

“By signing over to Overwatch you earn the same benefits as all the elite soldiers do.” Ana said lightly, walking toward the bedroom. Callen followed, eager to see what her uniform might be like. Captain Amari walked to the closet and typed something into a touch pad on the wall.The door slid open smoothly, revealing a suited body form in the center, surrounded by storage shelves and a hefty array of harnesses, canteens, masks, goggles, and plenty of other gear.

“This is me’ uniform then?” Callen asked, approaching the body form and running her hands over the synthetic, blue and grey fabric.

“You’re welcome to try it on now if you’d like.” Ana said with a smile. “Everyone will be getting up for breakfast soon, so you’ve got time to change. If there’s anything else you need just let me know.”

Callen thanked, her, smiling as she walked out. As soon as Ana closed the door behind her, Callen experimentally searched around, looking in drawers and shelves to see what she could find. She figured showing up to breakfast in a t-shirt and scrubs would not make a good first impression, so she settled with a pair of black joggers and a grey thermal shirt, complete with the Overwatch logo on the shoulder. _‘Oh how original.’_

Pulling her auburn hair out of its bun, she grabbed a brush from a drawer under the sink and struggled to detangle it. All she’d done for the past week was exercise, essentially, and although she showered every night, it still didn’t help that her hair was always up. _‘Ye’ just joined an elite, global task force. Why no’ try somethin’ different?’_

Digging around in one of the sink drawers, she pulled out an electric razor. Taking a good minute to stare back and forth between it and her reflection, Callen decided it wasn’t the worst decision she’s ever made, and proceeded to tie half her hair up in a tight bun, and see what happened next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of you who were hoping Callen would meet Gabriel in this chapter: I sincerely apologize. (I don't really, I'd love to see you all suffer.) ANYWAYS, I do promise he'll be in the next chapter. Maybe. You'll see.


	5. "You Do Realize One Day I'll Just Snap, Right?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be a pretty long chapter- almost three times as long as any I've written so far- so bear with me. I’m going to test switching POVs at some point, just to see what it’ll be like, so be sure to tell me what you think, and/or if you have any pointers on how to better incorporate it.

Walking out of her room, it soon became clear that more people were awake. This was evident by the wonderful smells coming from the direction of the kitchen, as well as the loud clamor of pots and pans accompanied by swing music on what she figured were vinyl records. Taking one last look at her hair, Callen decided it was good enough to head out, and proceeded to pad barefoot down the tiled hallway and into the kitchen.

“Well look who it is. Glad you could join us, agent.” Jack said upon her entrance, shooting her a grin and gesturing to the seat across from him at the long table in the center of the room.

“Aha! So you’re the new recruit Jack has brought along!” someone laughed. The booming voice echoed through her head, and Callen barely had time to register what was happening before she was met with a hard slap on the back, that nearly knocked her forward and onto the floor. The man before her was as large as a bear, and Callen first picked up on his thick, German accent before eyeing up the frilly beer maid apron wrapped taut across his chest and hips.

“She’s hardly a recruit, Reinhardt- but do try to go easy on her.” Captain Amari scolded, appearing behind the man and pushing him aside, began loading the nearby coffee pot with fresh grounds.

“She’s a tank, I’m sure she’ll do fine.” he cooed back. “Reinhardt Wilhelm at your service!” He retorted, bowing his head to her before continuing to saute onions and garlic on the stove. Callen stood there for a moment before smiling at the scene before her. All of this was so- _unprofessional_ , by military standards, but she couldn’t help but already feel more at home than she ever did with the British military.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Jack asked curiously, cocking his head as she sat down. Callen smiled in response, turning around so he could get a better look, and reveling in the feeling of his hand coming up to feel the freshly-shaven hair at the back of her head, lingering at the base of her neck for a split second before promptly pulling away. “I should probably let you know now, this is nothing special. All our mornings start like this, so expect to wake up to a lot of old records.” Jack said, clearing his throat as he gestured toward Reinhardt, singing along to _Fly me to the Moon_ as he worked over the stove.

“It’s a hell of a lo’ better than what Ah normally woke up tae’.” Callen chimed, quirking an eyebrow.

“What the hell is all this racket? Some of us are tryin’ ta’ sleep.” Someone asked gruffly.

“When you quit staying up in the shop until 3 in the morning, then you can complain, Torby.” Jack shouted back over his shoulder. Looking to the door of the West Wing, Callen took in the humorous sight of a short man with a fanned, blonde beard, hobbling into the kitchen, clad in blue and white striped pajamas. “That’s Torbjorn by the way. He’s not really a ‘morning person,’ but you’ll warm up to him.” Jack whispered, and Callen laughed as she looked over and observed the man curse as he attempted to pour himself a cup of coffee, only to miss the mug and pour half of it onto the counter.

“Aha, and you must be Miss Irving then? The one that’s been keepin’ Angela company.” he mused, shuffling over to the table and hopping into the chair three down from Jack. Callen only nodded in response, trying to pick through his accent. _‘Some sort of Scandinavian?’_ she thought. Callen took a moment to look over the man as he downed his glass, seemingly ignoring any thought to properly introduce himself and- expanding a compact light tablet and pen- began drawing prints for what looked to be a machine. Callen was very observant- she always had been- and the first thing she noticed about Torbjorn was his left arm. It was clear that the limb was cybernetic, but it had a lot of added attachments, like he’d built onto the standard model. _‘He mus’ be some kind of an engineer then?’_

Another ten minutes and breakfast was ready. Reinhardt had scrambled three dozen eggs and a slab of bacon larger than his head, alongside a skillet of fried potatoes, which Callen was more than happy to eat a full plate of. She spent most of the time sitting quietly, listening to everyone converse and taking in their characteristics. From what she’d picked up, Jack was mostly the leader of the group, evidenced by his rank, as well as the way he held himself. Ana remained silent for the most part, and Callen didn’t pick much up from her besides catching her gaze a few times and noticing the way she seemed much more lighthearted when speaking with Reinhardt, and more sarcastic with Jack.

Lo and behold, Reinhardt was not nearly the kind of person Callen thought he’d be. He was a bear of a man- standing as tall as the doorways in the “Elite Wing,” but he was extremely kind and generous, however unaware of his strength. This was mostly evident when he opened the fridge to retrieve mustard for his eggs, only to close it a bit too hard and nearly knock the damn thing back into the wall. Torbjorn, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. If Callen didn’t know any better, she’d think the two, bearded men had somehow switched bodies. Where Reinhardt was a gentle giant, Torbjorn seemed very gruff and upset at everything. _‘Eh, it’s prolly because he’s so stoutly.’_

* * *

After breakfast Jack gave Callen an order to suit up and meet him downstairs in the gym. He stuck around for a bit, helping Reinhardt clear dishes, while Torbjorn pulled a chair up to the sink so he could reach to wash them.

“Torby did ya’ finish working on her equipment?” He asked curiously. Torbjorn grunted in response, continuing to struggle with scrubbing pans.

“Somethin’ with mechanics like that takes time ‘an effort. I’ve got other things to work on besides calculatin’ the girl’s terminal velocity when she splats on the ground, but I’ll haul ‘em down there later so she can test out the prototype.” he replied, drying his hands off and jumping down from the chair.

“Good. She needs time to train with them, so you better have them done before we get a call.” Jack warned. Torbjorn only gave an ill-hearted ‘Alright’ as Jack retreated to the West Wing, turning into the elevator and heading down to the training grounds. The Elite Soldier’s section of the HQ was built onto a hillside; this allowed for extra space to house soldiers, and made it so that their training grounds were separate from that which the ground soldiers used. The elevators in the East and West Wings led to their respective locker rooms- East to the women’s and West to the men’s. From there the locker rooms exited into a weight room. A track circled the center area, which was organized with various exercise and lifting equipment. The right side of the room was open to a basketball court, while the left side was closed off, leading to the pool. Across the gym sat the practice range. Situated outdoors, it allowed a much more open environment for shooting, while a clear, hard-light barrier concealed it from the elements. That’s where Jack figured he’d find him; firing off shell after shell, frustratedly throwing his guns aside when they ran out of munitions.

“Keep doing that and you’ll fade away again.” Jack scolded jokingly, letting out a laugh as Gabriel turned to glare at him.

“And if I stop I’ll never learn how to control it.” he replied, tossing his gun to the right and watching it dissipate. Jack watched as Gabriel held out his arm, positioned his fingers as if he were holding a gun, and formed an exact replica of the one he’d held earlier.

“I’ll never understand why you can do all the cool stuff.” Jack huffed. Gabriel chuckled, knowing well that Jack had equally as interesting abilities, and proceeded to let off eight rounds on a nearby training bot. Per routine, he tossed the gun aside and held out his arm as he willed another to appear. Jack watched closely as Gabriel shuddered and rolled his neck, letting out a deep breath as part of his hand and forearm drifted off into mist, falling to the ground before disappearing completely.

“Well that’s problematic.” Gabriel said matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows and looking at the ground where the mist landed. Noticing Jack’s concerned gaze, he moved to slap him on the shoulder with his half-reformed stump, ensuring everything was fine before looking off in the direction of the gym.

“Commander Reyes.” Callen greeted, nodding to Gabriel as Jack turned around, eyeing up her uniform. The cerulean fabric fit her just right; not too tight, but still providing a nice outline of her toned muscles and hips. The insulated padding on her arms and legs stuck out slightly, a darker blue than the rest, and Jack could only admire her figure and pray to god that Torbjorn would hurry up with her equipment, so she could test it all at once.

* * *

Callen watched as Gabriel crossed his arms and took a moment to look her up and down. After a moment of silence and dead starring, Gabriel loosened up and extended a hand for her to shake. Hesitantly, Callen accepted, watching his movements as she stiffly shook his hand. Recalling her last “meeting” with him, she expected him to pull something on her, and was more than ready to fight back when he grabbed her arm, spinning her around and locking it behind her back.

While Gabriel was busy wrapping his free arm around her neck, she jumped, swinging her legs out and around his and swiftly pulling his knees forward and leaning into him, slamming Gabriel to the ground with all her weight. From there she brought her legs up, gaining enough momentum to push herself into him more. A _crunch_ and a yelp from the man beneath her told Callen she’d successfully hit him with the back of her head hard enough to break something. He released his hold on her arms, bringing a hand up to his face while Callen sat upright, grabbing his free hand and applying pressure between his thumb and index finger.

“Think you’ve finally met your match, Gabe?” Jack laughed, as Callen turned Gabriel over, sitting on his back and pinching her fingers on the back of his neck. After a moment she released him, springing back to her feet and taking a step back as Gabriel rolled over, groaning and holding his chin in his hands. Then he laughed; starting low and rumbling deep in his chest before loudly resounding across the training field.

“Cut me a break, Jack, I haven’t even had a cup of coffee.” Gabriel replied, examining the blood on his hand and experimentally dabbing at his chin. “You know what you’re doing, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s sort of ma’ job, sir.” Callen shot back, emotionless, trying to act indifferent about the situation, despite his laugh being the only thing on her mind. She wasn’t going to deny that both Commanders were attractive men. Where Jack was fair-skinned and blond and displayed leadership and boyish charm, Gabriel was dark and brooding, oozing charisma with a contrasting raw and carnal attitude. Nevertheless, they were both intoxicating to take in.

“Gabriel’s in charge of hand-to-hand combat assessment during training, so you’ll both have plenty of time to spar later on.” Jack explained, patting Callen on the shoulder as he walked past. “C’mon, we’ll go visit Torby and get your equipment while Gabe sets up the course.” Callen silently followed, resisting shooting a glare at Reyes when he not-so-subtly ran his shoulder into hers as they passed each other.

* * *

Her assumption had been correct: Torbjorn was an engineer. Not just any engineer, however, and Callen realized this as she stood in his workshop, marveling at the variety of machines and cybernetic limbs and blueprints piled on work benches and pasted on walls. His shop was built further underground than the rest of the base, and it’s a wonder how he could ever see what he was working on, as there were no windows, leaving the room dimly lit by a forge in the far corner and the crack of sunlight through a large fume hood beside it. Jack occupied himself talking to Torbjorn about his progress with Callen’s equipment while Callen herself looked around. She didn’t touch anything- too afraid of whatever reaction it may elicit from Torbjorn- and instead occupied herself by looking over prints for a rifle that shot syringes at long-range, to heal allies. _How_ it worked, she had no idea; almost all of the marginal notes were written in a language Callen couldn’t decipher.

Eventually Torb called her over to stand on a scale, quietly commenting on her weighing more than he’d thought, before retreating to an adjacent room, and Callen tried her best not to laugh as a loud crash and string of curses resounded once he hobbled out of sight. When he returned, he dropped what looked like a pair of boots onto a nearby workbench, pulled up a step stool, and gestured for Callen to come closer.

“Despite tha’ miscalculation in yer’ weight, these _should_ work jus’ fine.” He explained. Rotating a button-like object on the side, one of the boots eased open with a satisfying hiss as the hydraulics decompressed.

“Wha’ are they?” Callen asked curiously, tilting her head and leaning onto the table to examine them further.

“Velocity-challenging equipment.” he retorted, not bothering to explain further as he gestured for her to climb onto the workbench and try them on. Callen did as he asked, thankful for her suit’s fabric that wrapped around the arch of her foot, but still shivering at the contact of her heel and toes with the cold metal inside the boots. Torb instructed her to rotate the same button on the side before pushing it to lock in place, and when the boots clamped shut she took a few experimental steps across the tabletop. They weren’t uncomfortable, just… _strange._ Walking around in the boots, Callen felt almost lighter than air, despite how heavy they seemed to lift; like she was walking on a conveyor. She could hear the slight whirr of the hydraulics move with each step she took, and was thankful for the padding on the sides of her suit, that prevented any chaffing with the tight metal at her calves.

“How do they feel, Cal?” Jack asked from his spot by the door, leaning on the post with his arms crossed and a curious look on his face. Ignoring his nickname, Callen shrugged, bouncing lightly on the ball of her foot and experimentally lifting each leg.

“Are they suppos’d tae feel this light?” She wondered, looking between him and Torbjorn.

“Get off the table. Don’t climb though, just jump.” Torb instructed. Callen clenched her jaw in annoyance before swinging her arms dramatically and jumping off the table. Due to their weight, the boots allowed her to fall faster than usual, but as she prepared to bend her knees to land, Callen found that she didn’t feel any push against her legs. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was still falling but, looking at the concrete floor beneath her, it was clear that wasn’t the case. “Looks like they’re in workin’ order.” Torbjorn chimed, and Callen had to do a double take when she thought she saw the slightest tinge of a smile beneath his beard, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

It wasn’t long before Torb and Jack were leading her back out to the training field. Swiftly following behind them, Callen picked up something about ‘gauntlets’ and ‘hopefully they’ll work from a higher height,’ but she was too caught up in the feeling of walking on air to put much thought into it. Commander Reyes was waiting for them at the field where they’d left him, playing around with a tablet on the wall, which seemed to alter the layout of the enclosed range.

“Give me tha’ thing.” Torbjorn growled, shuffling over to Gabriel and nudging him out of the way before pulling the tablet down to his height and setting everything up himself. Callen stood by, still bouncing on her heels as she watched the training bots retreat to magnetization pads on the sidelines, and the panels of the floor raised to different heighted platforms. “Alright get out there and test ‘em out for real. Just follow the glowin’ platforms” Torbjorn instructed, pushing Callen in the direction of the course. She nervously complied, cracking her knuckles as she approached the nearest illuminated platform with a quick sprint, boosting herself up with one arm and rolling into a standing position.

The square-shaped platform wasn’t very large, but it gave enough room for her to run to the taller, adjacent one, using her foot to push off the wall and pull herself to the top in two steps. As it had before, the blue light on the surface wavered once she reached the top, soon moving to another platform. This one Callen currently stood on was longer, more rectangular, and she used that to her advantage as she backed up a step, running across it and jumping to another. It was lower to the ground than the last, so she planned to use the momentum from falling to roll and climb to a higher wall, but it proved more difficult than she remembered. Coming up from the falling roll, Callen made an effort to jump up and scale the wall, but as soon as she pushed up with the ball of her foot, she was speeding through the air, past the platform she’d intended to climb. _‘Oh SHITE.’_

Twisting forward, Callen hardly had time to react as she overshot the platform and accelerated toward the ground at breakneck speed. No matter how she landed, she was bound to break something, but that’s when it hit her. _‘I can’t break anything.’_ Hoping her plan would work, Callen bent her knees, preparing for the impact and the sudden launch into the air like last time, but as she landed she came to a full stop, feeling the hydraulics adjust strenuously. She didn’t bounce back, didn’t crumple to the ground like any normal human would after falling from that height, hell she hardly needed to bend her knees or steady herself as she landed straight-legged on the hard, concrete floor.

Callen stood still for a moment, unsure of whether she should try moving, for fear of being launched back into the air. Looking to the side, she observed Jack, Gabriel, and Torbjorn observing quietly, and she swore she caught that crinkling smile from beneath Torb’s beard again. She decided she wouldn’t ask for help, instead resorting to looking down and examining the boots. They contained some heavy hydraulics, evidenced by the sounds they made when she jumped or landed, and she figured they were calibrated to her weight in some way. Leaning forward, she experimentally lifted her leg, taking one step after another as the light moved to the floor, a few meters to her left.

“They’ll only lift ye’ up if ye’ put effort into doin’ so.” Torbjorn shouted. A moment of realization, and Callen smiled to herself, pushing into a hard sprint toward the light and making it across the course in one, swift movement. She’d planned on them boosting her into the air again, but this was even better, and she followed up with a low laugh before jumping off the ground. Jumping was more difficult than sprinting though, and Callen realized this when she stopped accelerating just short of the platform she’d jumped toward. She didn’t think much as she fell back to the ground, planning on boosting back up as soon as she landed, but as her boots made contact with the concrete, her knees buckled and she fell hard to the floor.

* * *

People who have pristine reputations and are admired by masses can almost never be trusted. There’s always a catch. After all, reputations are just widespread beliefs; the truth is never nearly as gracious. Callen tried to remember her past as often as she could. There were a lot of details that had come back on their own, but most of the information came to her on the rare nights that she actually got some sleep. When she was conscious, the memories were roused in fragments, brought back by certain actions, sounds, smells or the mention of a name, lacing through her mind to the point that all she could do was sit and process them in a catatonic-like state. Then there were the things she remembered when unconscious; things that gave her more of a visual, often rousing her from sleep in a writhing, screaming mass. But as she lay there on the ground, unsure of what happened or what was going on around her, Callen found that the memory brought back from falling was the most indifferent of them all.

She was standing in a long, rounded room with shining white walls and marble pillars jutting up to support archways on either side. Running her hand along the smooth, cast iron banister in front of her, she realized she was on the landing of a twisting double staircase that framed the first half of the room, encompassing a doorway that led to an unknown room below. Looking around the brightly-lit room, Callen couldn’t help but feel small in such a large space, and she decided to step up onto the lower rung of the banister to get a better look around.

“Come now, ye’ wee bairn, ge’ aff a’ there!” Someone scolded, voice shrill with a lilting accent, just like hers. Callen stiffened up when a pair of cold hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her down from the railing. She spun around to face the stranger once they set her on the floor, twisting the neatly-centered, black carpet across the tile in the process. The woman wore a black dress, slightly puffed out around the edges, with stockings and black shoes and a white apron over her front, spotted with various marks from cooking or cleaning- whatever it was she was doing before she’d pulled Callen away from the railing. Looking up, Callen observed her face, feeling as if she’d seen it before- a distant memory long locked away. She had dark hair neatly pulled into a bun and freckles dotting her face and upper arms. He navy eyes were soft, with a glint of friendliness, but the purse of her full lips told Callen that she was not happy in the slightest. Callen sat in silence, awkwardly gaping at the woman, who opened her mouth to say something. Something that Callen couldn’t hear. She sat and stared, trying to make out the word, studying the movement of her lips until a clear voice rang out in her head- a man’s voice. One she remembered clearly as if she’d just had a conversation with him a-

“Callen!”

Her eyes shot open and she gasped for breath, shaking slightly as she swiftly swung her head, trying to remember where she was. _‘Training grounds. Switzerland. Overwatch base… Christ, ye must a’ve hit yer head when ye’ fell.’_ It took a minute for her eyes to focus, and when they did Callen calmed down, breathing in slowly as she stared at the cloudy sky above her, tinged pink and orange from the glow of the early morning sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now seems like a good time to say this so here goes: I HATE INTRODUCTIONS. Seriously, the only reason the first four chapters were short, is because I despise story introductions with every ounce of my being, and did my best to rush through and explain as much as I could before getting to the parts people actually want to read about. Was that an unprofessional call on my part? Absolutely. But from here on out, expect 5,000+ word chapters, and much more detailed descriptions and scenes. Thank you all for your patience, and be sure to leave a comment or review of what you think!


	6. Nothing Brightens A Room Quite Like Gabriel's Absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay, sorry for the long wait on this chapter- Exams are coming up and I am in no way shape or form ready to cope with all this stress and whatnot. Once the holidays come around though I'll be able to update more frequently, so you can look forward to two, maybe three more chapters withing the next month- that is, if I manage to finish editing them in time.
> 
> Remember reviews are encouraged and much appreciated, and I look forward to continuing writing and hearing from you! No notes for the end of this chapter, but if you have any questions or pointers, don't hesitate to message me!

It had been three days since the incident on the training field. A simple mistake in engineering, Callen held no grudges when Torbjorn gruffly apologized and admitted that he’d miscalculated the added weight from her augmentations when calibrating the equipment. Callen accepted that, washing away the issue like water under the bridge. Thanks to the absorption from her augmentations, Callen walked away uninjured, and spent the next two days acting as normal as possible, engaging in conversations where she could and participating in cooking and cleaning up after meals, until another dream roused her from sleep at 05:30 on the third day.

The room seemed… familiar. Lit with the comfortable glow of a fireplace, reflecting warm hues off of tall, curtained windows and sleek, walnut floors. Callen was seated in an antique armchair, so understuffed, she feared she might fall through it if she moved too much. Before her sat a low, glass-top table, on top of which was an ornate chess set, gleaming gold and bronze in the fire’s light.

“Bad things happen, Callen. An’ ye’ have to know how yer’ goin’ tae’ deal with ‘em when they do.” Someone said, and Callen looked up from the glowing chess set to see a familiar, dark-haired woman sitting across from her. Dressed in the same black dress and dirty white apron, a stern look on her face but a soft regard in her eyes. “Ye’ have tae’ decide whether yer’ gonna’ get up an’ eat yer’ toast an’ drink yer’ tea, or bury yerself away from what ye’ care about, an’ refuse tae’ do anythin’ tae’ change it.” 

Sitting upright with a jolt, Callen struggled to calm her breath and sat in bed for a while just listening, eventually getting up to poke her head out her door after a moment to make sure no one had heard if she’d made any commotion. A good two minutes of silence and she fell back to her room, slouching down into the desk chair in the corner and tugging on the screen to her left, willing it closer. 

“Guest terminal online. Please enter Agent ID and password.” A voice rang out, causing Callen to jump in her seat, looking around for a volume control on the side of the screen. Once she’d found it, Callen logged in as a guest, quickly selecting the Overwatch icon on the top right of the screen.

Humming softly to herself, she took a moment to think before typing  _ ‘Morrison, Jack’ _ into the search and marveled at the hundreds of results that came up. Narrowing her search to files in the HQ database, Callen opened the first result and skimmed through the article. “Soldier Enhancement Program…” Callen wondered aloud, eyes narrowing at the memory of she and Lena’s conversation over tea at the hospital, and curiosity got the best of her as she selected the highlighted section of the text.

_ ‘Access Denied. Enter Administrator login to proceed.’ _

Callen cursed, tabbing back through the file until she was back to the search engine, soon typing  _ ‘Amari, Ana’  _ into the hologram keyboard on the desk. Captain Amari’s record was much more navigable than Jack’s, and Callen was soon impressed by the woman’s outstanding sharpshooting record. 

_ ‘Egypt's most skilled sniper, in the recent threat of  _ _ global crisis _ _ , Egypt was forced to collect a team of snipers to support their military. Amari's marksmanship, instincts, and use of her  _ _ cybernetic eye _ _ allowed her to gain a reputation as the army's finest.’ _

Smiling to herself, Callen read over her file, closely examining the images included, showing frontal and profile screenshots, soon noticing something she hadn’t before; the outlined iris of Ana’s right eye glowed with a faint shade of blue.

A knock at the door brought Callen out of her thoughts and, jumping in her seat, she took a deep breath and walked to the door, pressing the palm of her hand to the keypad, sliding it open with a  _ hiss _ as it retreated into the wall. Sure as hell there stood Ana, clad in grey sweats and a button-up shirt, bangs conveniently hiding her eye from Callen’s curious line of sight.

“Sorry to wake you. Angela just flew in and would like to see you in Med-Bay.” She said, a hint of sleep still present in her smooth voice. Callen nodded, turning back to grab a hooded sweatshirt from her dresser before following Ana out and into the elevator down the hall. A comfortable silence drifted over them, Ana standing silently with hands behind her back, while Callen swiftly pulled the black garment over her head, struggling for a second when it wouldn’t fit around her shoulders. 

“So yer’ a sharpshooter then, huh?” Callen asked as they exited the lift, maneuvering through the locker room. 

Ana lets out a soft laugh, “I assumed you’d learn more than that after reading up on me.” she replied with a smirk. Callen gulped hard, pursing her lips and averting her gaze as Amari laughed again, moving to one of the lockers and pulling out a rifle bag and a grey sweater.  _ ‘Wonderful combination, tha’ is.’ _ “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it, Callen. I would have done the same, given the position you’re faced with. New base, new team- I’m not surprised that you were curious.” she added. Callen nodded, watching as Ana pulled on the garment and slung the rifle over her back, continuing out to the training field while Callen followed.

“If ye’ don’ mind me askin’ then,” Callen inquired, meeting Ana’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “Did somethin’ happen tae’ warrant ya’ gettin’ yer’ eye replaced, or did ya’ just choose tae’ do ‘et?” She trailed off.

“It was a hard choice to make,” Ana acknowledged, holding the door for Callen as they entered a pristine, tiled hallway. “I was doing well enough without it, but I saw no harm in having the procedure done. You can never be too careful in my line of work.”

Callen took in the white walls and vaulted ceiling of the Med-Bay as they walked through the revolving double doors, taking a moment to stop and examine a handful of framed diplomas and pictures on the wall before Angela’s voice brought her back from her thoughts.

“Callen, I’m so glad to see you!  _ Danke _ , Ana. I appreciate you bringing her down here.” she exclaimed with a lilt, smiling and putting down a stack of boxes as Callen approached. Ana nodded, noting she would be outside at the shooting range should either of them need her, and promptly took her leave. “So how have things been? I do hope you’re warming up to everyone.” Angela inquired.

“Awright, Ah guess. Jus’ a bit… overwhelmin’.” Callen responded, examining the room and taking note of the varying stacks of orange, plastic boxes in the corner, hardly unpacked. Angela must have just recently arrived before departing for Callen’s surgery and rehabilitation.

“Good, good,” Angela began, pulling a tablet out of her bag and instructing Callen to stand on a designated square in the corner, feet shoulder-width apart and back straight. Callen did so, silently watching as Angela typed a command into her tablet, and a mechanical arm moved from the ceiling, circling Callen a few times before Angela willed it back up. “Your vitals seem fine- a  _ slight _ contusion to the augments in your hips and right patella, however. We’ll have to schedule a surgery to make sure they needn't be repaired. Are you feeling any pain? Muscle aches, joints, anything of the like?”

“No’ really.” Callen articulated, raising an eyebrow as she looked down and absentmindedly rubbed her right knee. Nothing; no pain, or strenuous tug when she flexed her leg, soon looking up at Angela to continue. The doctor simply hummed to herself, typing more into the tablet before collapsing it and setting it aside on her desk.

“What about stiffness? When you wake up in the morning or sit for too long, is it difficult for you to get back up?” Angela wondered, snapping on a pair of bright blue rubber gloves and massaging Callen’s shoulder blades, working her way down her back. Callen reveled in the pop and release of the augmentations in her spine as Angela moved downward, and resisted the urge to twist and crack the joints herself.

“Nah, doc, Ah haven’t really felt anythin’ out of tha’ ordinary. If Ah did, Ah would’ve told ye’.” Callen said in elaboration, quickly snapping her head to the side to crack her neck and rolling her shoulders when Angela turned away.

“In that case, we can move on. Are you at all familiar with the concept of Holotracing Infusions?” Angela asked, instructing Callen to take a seat on the nearby gurney. Callen shook her head, climbing to sit on the table and watching as Angela unlocked a cabinet on the far end of the room, pulling out an orange box and making her way back to the table. “Holotracing Infusions are a new piece of military and medical technology,” she explained, pulling on a face mask and opening the box to reveal several vials of blue, seemingly shimmering liquid, and a painfully large-looking syringe. “They’re in a sense just microscopic computer chips that, when injected through the bloodstream, embed themselves into the tissue in your brainstem and cerebellum. The presence of these microchips allows me to monitor your bodily functions, and alert me when you are critically injured.”

“A’right, hold on a minute. Yer’ no’ puttin’ those things  _ in _ me, are ye’?” Callen stammered, pulling away as Angela filled the syringe with the liquid in one of the vials. 

“I have to if you want the compact Caduceus equipment to work when you’re in battle. It’s the only way I can treat you on the field.” she chided, raising an eyebrow as if she half expected Callen to know their importance. A moment of hesitation and Callen loosened up, looking away when Angela tapped the syringe and instructed her to lean back and extend her arm. “You might feel a slight burning sensation when the fluid goes in, but it will all be over quick,” Angela warned all too soon, and Callen clenched her opposite fist, gasping when she felt the thick length of the needle push through the skin at the joint of her elbow, followed by a painful sting as she watched the blue serum flow through the shaft of the syringe and into her vein.

“Jesus, fuck, wha’ tha’ hell is in tha’ stuff?” Callen hissed, bringing a hand up to press on the entry. Angela didn’t respond, she simply pushed her back to lie again on the table before grabbing a gun-like mechanism from her desk and loading it with a metallic cartridge. 

“Now, this is a Nano Contrivance that acts with the Holotrace chips.” she explained, ignoring Callen’s question as she moved to the front of the gurney, and Callen turned her head to the side and examined a diamond-like object in Angela’s gloved hand. “This is injected into your spine, to translate the signals sent from the chips in your brain, and tracks your movements so we know where you are when they alert us.”

“An’ all of this is absolutelae’ necessary fer’ me tae’ have while Ah work with ye’ lot?” Callen mumbled, turning her head as Angela walked out of sight, soon feeling her hand smooth the hem of Callen’s sweatshirt up her back.

“In time, you’ll find that everything I do is necessary for your well-being on the field.” she chimed. A few seconds pass, Callen turns her head back to see what Angela was doing, and her eyes widen when she watches Angela press the front of the gun to her back, pressing the trigger and allowing the metal diamond to shoot into the tissue above Callen’s lower back. For a second she wanted to scream, jump up, grab at her back in an attempt to claw out the foreign object, but there was no pain to warrant her doing so, so she could only lay there in shock while Angela moved on to asking her when was best for an augmentation repair surgery.

* * *

Callen absentmindedly rubbed the base of her spine as she exited the elevator and began walking through the East Wing, making her way toward the kitchen. Reinhardt stood at the counter mixing a bowl of what appeared to be batter, Gabriel next to him, pouring a cup of coffee.

“You like coffee,  _ pelirrojo _ ?” Gabriel asked, offering her a mug, but Callen only grimaced, shaking her head and offering a subtle ‘no’ as she sat down. She kept quiet as Gabriel sat a few chairs down from her, watching him as he leaned back, teetering precariously on the back legs of his chair. Strumming her fingers on the tabletop, Callen waited patiently for Reinhardt to finish breakfast, wishing she had something to occupy herself with, all the while sneaking a sidelong glance at Gabriel down the table, trying to read him but failing miserably.  _ ‘Christ, Ah’ need a drink.’ _ But it was still too early in the morning for attempted alcoholism, so Callen instead chose to get up and fill a mug with tea and hot water, leaving it to steep and meandering over to Reinhardt while she waited.

“Pancakes today-  _ pfannkuchen _ ! If you don’t like them now, you will when  _ I’m _ done making them.” Reinhardt exclaimed cheerily when Callen approached him. Cracking a smile, she leaned against the counter and watched as he slopped a measuring cup of batter into a well-greased cast iron, whistling an unknown tune to himself as he waited for the bubbles to rise.

“Can’t say Ah’ve ever had ‘em before.” Callen wondered, thinking back as the German giant flipped half a dozen finished disks onto a nearby plate. “Do ye’ jus’ eat ‘em plain, or somethin’ then?”

Reinhardt let out a deep laugh, nudging Callen in the side with his arm as he measured out more batter into the pan, bellowing “Go get the yellow bowl from the fridge.” Callen dutifully obeyed, moving across the room and opening the refrigerator, soon pulling out a banana-colored pyrex from the bottom shelf, covered in plastic and weighing as much as a small child. Setting it on the counter, Callen carefully peeled off the plastic, before staring questionably at the bright red, jelly-coated blobs inside. Reinhardt instructed her to try one, and after a moment of contemplation, Callen hesitantly dipped her finger into the cold bowl and pulled one out.

“Aye jesus, wha’  _ is _ this?” Callen exclaimed with a mouthful of jelly, narrowing her gaze when she heard Gabriel chuckle across the room. 

“Glazed strawberries, I take it?” Someone asked, and Callen jumped when she turned and was met face-to-face with Jack standing over her shoulder. He opened his mouth expectantly, lowering his head to her level, and Callen let out a snort as she retrieved another strawberry from the bowl and fed it to him, laughing again and raising an eyebrow when he swirled his tongue around her finger. “Rein, I swear these get better every time you make them.” he slurred, following up by asking Callen how her meeting with Angela went.

“Can’t say Ah’m too partial to havin’ ma’ brain stuck full ‘o metal, but ‘et is wha’ ‘et is.” Callen shrugged as she finished preparing her tea and went back to her chair. “Christ, do ye’ have any money?” At this, Jack and Gabriel stared at her with confused expressions before Callen realized what she’d said. “Money? Sweet stuff. Ye’ put it in tea... Ah think ye’ Americans call it  _ sugar. _ ”

The sound of a cabinet shutting resounded behind her and in a split second, Gabriel was gesturing down the table at a rectangular box full of sugar cubes. Callen apologized softly before thanking him, trying to remember if she had just skipped over it before, all the while picking up on the movement of Jack presumably kicking Gabriel under the table and hissing at him for being a ‘show off.’

“So…” Callen trailed off, leaning with an elbow in the table as she turned to look at them. Jack snapped out of his hushed conversation with a smile, while Gabriel continued to look forward, taking a swig of coffee. “Ah couldn’t help but… overhear, tha’ ye’ were part of tha’ enhancement program in tha’ States.” Callen wondered aloud, nonchalantly sipping her tea, stopping mid-drink when Gabriel choked on his coffee, coughing and sputtering and pounding his fist into his chest while Jack stared at her like a wounded deer.

“I don’t know where you heard that.” Jack chimed with a laugh and a sheepish smile.

“Eh,” Callen groaned, catching on to the nearly tangible tension, “Jus’ heard it from some lass back a’ tha’ hospital. Figured ‘et’d be an interestin’ story tae’ hear.” she explained, wishing to dismiss the topic. Jack remained silent, offering a nod and biting the inside of his lip as he turned away. Meanwhile Gabriel continued to stare vehemently into his coffee cup, clenching his jaw and looking as if he would explode any minute. It was then that Callen noticed Reinhardt’s humming had stopped, and giant resembled that of a statue, shadowing over the stove as he quietly continued making breakfast, undoubtedly listening in on what was being discussed. 

“It was a voluntary program,” Jack spoke up, and in that moment, a sickening familiarity hovered in the air; the kind when the wrong person seems to know you too well, and Jack seemed to catch on to this when he turned to Callen, sitting relaxed in her chair, and offered her a smile. “Just intense conditioning really- a lot of undisclosed, systematized training and all that.” he explained. Callen nodded, taking a deep breath as turned away to finish her tea.  _ ‘Well tha’s gonnae stir up some shite.’ _

After breakfast, Callen figured she’d been proven wrong, however, when she was led through the main sector of the base by Jack and Gabriel, and all seemed well as she followed behind the two Commanders. A minute or so of tailing them through the hall, and she was soon greeted by the spacious ‘War Room,’ as Jack called it. The ceiling was high, supported by steel buttresses with dimmed lights and clean walls adorned with a wide array of screens, organized around an oblong table in the center. 

“Okay Cal, take a seat anywhere and we can get started.” Jack suggested, gesturing to the table as he made his way to the control console. Callen obediently complied, swiveling back and forth in the chair until a second later when her movements were abruptly halted.

“We need to talk once we’re done here, recruit. It’s high time you’re given a rundown of your job description.” Gabriel’s voice hissed into her ear, and Callen clenched her fists, focussing across the room on Jack, with his back turned. By the time Jack turned around, Gabriel was gone, seating himself across the room and putting his feet up on the table, either unaware or ignoring Callen’s searing gaze boring into him.

“This,” Jack began, snapping Callen out of her one-sided staring contest as he tossed something at her. “-is a Commlink; a communications device.” he finished as Callen caught the object, turning it over in her hands. It was small- about the length of her hand- with a layout similar to that of the tablet Angela always used. “This is yours to keep for as long as you’re stationed with Overwatch. From that little piece of plastic, you can do basically anything; track our movements in battle, communicate on the field, search HQ databases, download Space Jam if you want- you name it.” Callen looked up at him quizzically for a moment before muttering a ‘thanks,’ and sliding it into her pocket. “And this,” Jack began again, moving his hand through the air and opening a holo projection of a sequence of numbers. “-is your agent ID. That card Ana gave you a few days ago was just for visitors. From here on out, your prints and retinal scans will be in our database and recognized by Aether.” 

_ ‘5-4664-3. How tha’ hell do they expect me tae remember tha’?’  _

“Hold on a tick, who’s Aether?” Callen wondered aloud, but before she could finish, a smooth voice resounded across the room, making Callen jump in her seat and look around the room.

“I am A.E.T.H.E.R., Artificial intelligence system of Overwatch European Headquarters.” It explained. Callen stared around the room, wide-eyed and looking for the source of the voice; obviously male, and speaking in a clear accent that Callen couldn’t quite decipher.

“Wait, so et’s an AI? Like one ‘a them Omnics?” 

“Aether’s an AI, but more like a program than something physical. He’s coded into one of our satellites and communicates with us and checks vitals and does general things like that during missions.” Jack explained, and Callen smiled to herself, letting out a huff as she continued to look around, still expecting there to be a more physical source than just a set of speakers. 

“So Ah can jus’ talk to ‘im whenever Ah want then?” she questioned.

“Yeah, just about.” Jack acknowledged. “Now, Commlink, Agent ID, introduce you to the house AI… I think that’s it. You’re good to go until we get a call to dispatch.” With that, Jack dismissed her, retreating back to the command console as Callen stood up and made her way to the door, all too aware of the presence of Commander Reyes just behind her. She left the room, double doors swinging shut behind them, and was half-tempted to break into a run, when she felt the back of her shirt tighten. The next thing she knew, Callen was knocked hard against the wall, pushing any remaining air out of her lungs before a large hand clamped over her mouth. 

“Now you listen to me, Scotty.” Gabriel sneered, holding her against the wall by the front of her shirt. Had it been anyone else, Callen would have gone through a dozen ways to get out of his hold, knock him out and run off back to Reinhardt or Jack and let either of them know what was going on, but she didn’t have to do that with him. Callen calmed her breath, staring back at Gabriel with a mocking glare. She had a feeling that this was going to hurt somehow, but she needed  _ something _ of substance from him. Gabriel was an enigma; of all the other soldiers she’d been introduced, Callen could read them like books, but Gabriel? She could tell he was carrying something inside him, but would never let it show- probably chose to kill the pain by other means. This would be her only opportunity to figure out what made him tick.

“That little stunt you pulled this morning? Don’t let it happen again,  _ entiendes _ ?” He barked, and Callen cocked an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact as Gabriel tightened his grip on the neckline of her sweatshirt, moving his opposite hand from her mouth to pound his fist on the wall above her head. 

“If ‘yer talkin’ about me askin’ about the Commander’s trainin’ an’ what, dinnae’ worry. Won’t do ‘et again.” Callen retorted, a hint of sarcasm hidden beneath the nonchalant undertone of her voice.

“What they did to us is  _ confidential _ . Jack likes to romanticize it; say it was  _ voluntary _ .” Gabriel said with a hiss, looking away when he repeated Jack’s words. “You might be a damn good soldier but you’re still under our watch, so hold your tongue in matters you know nothing about.”

With that Gabriel let her go, barking a ‘Dismissed.’ before marching back toward the War Room. “Ooh but Commander, Ah like gettin’ ma’ higher-ups all roughed up.” Callen jeered as he walked away. For a second she could have sworn his pace slowed and he subtly glared back at her, likely considering if it was worth going back and trying to be more intimidating. But as he continued to stomp off, Callen only stood and smiled because she was right. She’d egged him on, and he let slip something she was sure he’d want to have kept a secret.  _ ‘He said ‘us’.’ _

* * *

Callen spent the later half of the day lounging around in the Elite sector common room, fiddling around with her comm. She’d figured out how to change the wallpaper, setting it to a default green and laughing to herself as she went about changing the names of everyone in her current contacts that she’d been introduced to thus far. After a while she retreated back to her room. Seating herself awkwardly yet comfortably sideways in her desk chair, Callen powered on one of the terminals, entered her official ID, and rummaged through the desk drawers, writing it down on a yellow post-it. From there she continued with her last search, reading through the remaining few sentences of Ana’s file before moving on to Angela.

“Degrees in Applied Nanobiology, Neurology, an’ PM&R by tha’ time she was  _ thirty? _ ” Callen marveled aloud, scanning over the file with wide eyes. At the end of the page was a gallery of photos- Angela at a graduation ceremony, smiling wide and dressed in a red cap and gown, a Valedictorian medal around her neck and a framed diploma in her hands. As she flipped through more pictures of Angela doing relief work on the field, Callen’s comm buzzed and a quiet  _ pip _ rang out in her ears. It was then that she realized, her comm was linked to her hearing augments.

**[Agent ID: 1-6600-5]**

**Morrison, Jack**

**[“Jiffy Muffin”]:**

Just got a call. Possibly needed to dispatch to  Paris for our first official OP.  You in?

  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Don't You Just Love How Badass We Are When We're All Together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the long wait. This new semester hit me hard and I’m trying my best to juggle grades and classes and writing, so bear with me while I kick-start this school year. This is a pretty big chapter though, so hopefully it makes up for my absence! There’s a mixture of real time events and flashbacks throughout this entire chapter, so it may get confusing at times though. As always, I appreciate comments and kudos, so feel free to shoot me a message about what you think!

“Major, what do ye’ propose we do?”

Callen snapped out of her daze, looking around for the source of the voice. They sounded worried, anguished, unsure of what to do and looking to her for guidance. Turning to her left, Callen’s eyes locked with the man she recognized as Haydn, watching intently, examining her every move.

A moment to gather her thoughts and Callen realizes that she’s somewhere outdoors, dressed in her fatigues, pack sitting on the ground before her, rifle balanced on her knees- she grabs the barrel, eases the stock into her shoulder and takes a deep breath. It was dark- nearly sundown and pouring rain, and as Callen looked around she took note of the echoing boom of explosives and gunfire in the distance, and the swift whir of air transport crafts overhead. She felt all too calm for the situation at hand.

“Wha’s goin’ ‘aun ‘aut there?” she asked, shuffling into a crouching position and glancing over the metal barrier she was previously leaning against. Callen reached up to her helmet and pulled down her visor, staring out at the vast expanse of the battlefield, clicking on the night vision after a moment and focusing on a lone Omnic walker a few kilometers away, destroying outposts and buildings in its wake.

“We’ve been given orders tae retreat, but Wullie’s unit ‘es pinned jus’ north ‘a us.” Haydn explained, rushing to crouch next to Callen and gesturing ahead of the barrier. _‘Wullie…’_ Callen thought, trying to bring a face to the name as she scanned the perimeter. Sure as hell, there he was, crouched behind a fallen walker 800 yards away- a shock of blue-green hair curling every which way above a soot-dusted face and fatigues.

“Wullie this ‘es Irving, what’s yer’ status?” Callen barked into her comm, ducking behind the barrier just as a barrage of M134 rounds whizzed overhead. She received no response, save an obnoxious static crackle from her comm, and Callen realized that if they were going to get everyone out of there, she needed to act fast. “Haydn split tha’ team- yer’ half head west ‘an pick up Wullie’s unit, Ah’ll head east ‘an see if we can’t get one of tha guard post canons up ‘an runnin’ so we can take out tha’ walker.”

Haydn nodded, gathering a few men before strapping on his equipment and leading the group away from the barrier. Callen waited a moment, making sure Haydn’s unit made it to cover before turning to her own team- three men, dressed in the usual SFSG fatigues, all with bright eyes, ruddy faces, and lengthy dark hair, plastered under their helmets with sweat and dust. _‘Reid, Anders, Ross.’_ Gesturing for them to follow her, Callen slung her rucksack over her shoulders and checked her ammo cartridge before rolling out from behind the barrier and breaking into a sprint, her three companions following close behind with their heads low.

 

“You sure you’re up for this, Cal?”

Callen snapped to attention in an instant, jumping in her seat as she glanced around. All eyes were on her as she sat at the meeting table, breathing heavily, fingers instinctively grabbing at her hip, feeling for the familiar comfort that wasn’t there.

“Ah’m fine, jus’ spaced out ‘es all.” came her reply, breathy and dismissive as she relaxed in her chair, turning her focus to the screen at the front of the room.

“Right. Secretary General Adawe will be linked in any second, so be on your best behavior, guys. This might finally be our chance to land an OP.” Jack explained, messing with a few buttons on the center console before jogging back to his seat at the head of the table. Callen watched from the corner of her eye as Jack fiddled with papers, smoothed down his hair, and took a deep breath as he played with his thumbs.

“Oh, he’s nervous.” Ana chided beside her, and Callen smiled, realizing that Jack’s nerves must have indeed been getting to him.

Not a second later, the screen sparked to life, displaying the low glow of the Overwatch symbol in the center of the monitor, before a woman appeared. She had a wide face and thick eyebrows, deceivingly arched above her amber eyes, broad nose, and full lips. Her dark complexion and hair beautifully complemented her tan suit, and as Callen stood to salute her, she took a moment to admire the coat of arms brooch on her lapel before directing her attention back to the woman’s face.

“At ease, soldiers.” The woman addressed, and Callen followed suit as everyone took their seats again. “For the last few months, you’ve been building as part of an elite, multinational task force- created by the UN, but in practice completely independent. As of right now, you’re the founding members of Overwatch.”

Callen couldn’t help but smile to herself at this and, looking around the table, she could tell everyone else seemed just as proud as she.

“There’s no bureaucracy between us and the terrorists that threaten our existence, which means it’s your job to secure loose nukes or take out the factories manufacturing hostile Omnics when no one else can get it done.” she continued, soon stopping for a moment to shuffle through something out of sight of the camera. “Unfortunately for Overwatch, your first mission is a political minefield.”

“You say the word and we’ll do it, Chief.” Jack interrupted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Adawe seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm and nodded in response, looking down at a presumably out-of-sight file before continuing.

“Two hours ago, the Russian embassy in Paris was captured by a terrorist group calling itself the Industrial Legion.” Adawe swiped her hand to the side, and on a separate screen appeared news feed of an angular building, lit up with spotlights and surrounded by law enforcement vehicles and air transport. With that Callen felt her commlink vibrate, and she and the other soldiers took a moment to look down and open the files just sent to them. “We believe the Russian ambassador is inside and still alive, so it’s your job to get him out safely and quietly- this operation’s security must be airtight.”

“So you want us to find, secure, and extract the ambassador.” Jack stated, still scrolling through his commlink.

“I want yourself, Reyes, Irving, and Wilhelm to lead Alpha Team. Amari and Lacroix will head up Bravo as a supporting role if the situation deems it necessary.” General Adawe elaborated with a nod. “We’ll talk again when you’re on site.”

* * *

 

There were times when Callen felt like she wasn’t the same person anymore, and the truth is, she wasn’t. Living with pain changed her. Every morning, for as long as she could remember, Callen woke up and went to war- with her body and her mind and the world and the people around her. Every day was a struggle to keep her life as close to normal as possible whilst fighting the constant negativity and despair she saw in the news each day. Callen was a very different person than the shy, Politician's’ daughter that once lived in her skin.

She realized this one night as she sat with her squadron. They’d all come home safe after a successful op, nothing too special. But as Callen lounged in the base’s common room, drinking a cold beer and laughing over the rugby game on the holoscreen, she realized that she’d do anything for her men. Her younger self would never have been so willing to sacrifice her life for another person- she’d always been told that’s what bodyguards were for. She relived this memory as she stood there, bloody and bruised, shouting to Haydn through her comm, and Callen realized for the second time, that she’d rather sacrifice herself than let more people die under her.

Callen, Reid, Ross, and Anders had made their way across the battlefield, dodging shells and close calls with turrets and drones. Eventually they found their way to the nearest guard station, a good thousand yards from where they’d split with Haydn’s squad. There was only one problem though; Ross was down.

Something was bound to happen to at least one of them, running around in the open like that. But they had no other choice; if they didn’t take down that walker, the air transports couldn’t land, and she’d be stuck there to lead a dozen men out of enemy territory.

Luckily for them Ross wasn’t hurt _too_ bad. An energy pulse right through the kneecap definitely limited him, but he was one of their last engineers, and the only one with the smarts to get the post’s damaged generator up and running.

“There’s gonnae’ be a box with a clamp somewhere aun tha’ side ‘o tha’ thing.” Ross explained with a yelp as Anders set him on the littered floor of the dilapidated outpost building.

“Anders you wrap ‘im up while Reid an’ Ah look for ‘et.” Callen commanded. Digging through her rucksack, Callen pulled out a roll of cloth and a light, tossing them at Anders before looking around for the panel. The faint glow from the projector helped illuminate the side of the machine, and after a moment of searching, Callen and Reid were able to locate the box.

“Now, when ye’ open tha’ panel, there’s gonnae’ be a cluster ‘a wires on top.” Ross shouted, stopping for a moment to throw his head back against the concrete wall as Anders pulled tight on the cloth around his thigh. “Ye’ need tae carefully move ‘em outta’ tha’ way, then reach down there an’ push the bearin’ support intae’ place.”

“Ah’m nae’ stickin’ me’ hand inside ‘a tha’ thing.” Reid said indignantly, looking at Callen with a suggesting glance. Callen only rolled her eyes, moving the wires aside and reaching down into the plate assembly shaft. A good push, a loud metallic click, and-

 

Callen came back to the present in another instant, jolting slightly and blinking rapidly, trying to assess the situation at hand and remember where she was. _‘Uniform, armor, harness…’_ she went over a mental list of the equipment displayed before her. Walking further into her closet, Callen stripped her cerulean undersuit off its form, taking a moment to run her hands over the fibrous texture before slipping it on. Despite the look of it, the suit wasn’t tight, and she found it much easier to move and breathe than she’d previously thought.

Moving to the nearby shelf, Callen looked over the body armor she was to wear over it. Lifting it off its form, she strapped it on, tightly securing the straps over her shoulders, under her arms, and across her hips.

Exiting her closet, Callen took a moment to look over her reflection; she was a pillar of intimidation from head to toe as she strapped her goggles over her forehead. Holding her helmet under her arm, Callen admired herself for another second before exiting her room, shouting a lock command over her shoulder as she made her way down the hall.

“Callen! How’s that suit fitting ‘ya?” Reinhardt bellowed as Callen approached the launch pad, and Callen smiled, striking a quick pose and laughing as Reinhardt did the same.

“How’d they manage tae make a helmet big enuff’ tae fit ‘yer melon head?” Callen asked with a laugh, punching him in the arm as she secured her own helmet over her head. Reinhardt only barked out a ‘no idea!” as they continued toward the transport together, soon making their way inside to meet with Jack.

“Alright, these are just your standard military rifles,” Jack said, standing in the cargo bay, gun in hand. “All of you should be familiar with how they operate, correct?” Callen glanced around as everyone nodded their heads. She was used to using more advanced weaponry with the SFSG, but she remembered using these models in Basic Training. _‘Hard light rifle, electrically charged munition- shoots energy rounds tha size ‘a sausages.’_ Callen walked over and grabbed herself a rifle from the mounting shelf, then reached for a pistol and combat knife, strapping the first to her right hip and the second to her left leg.

“That armor’s made of boitic nanofiber. That means if you get shot, nothing _should_ go through it- but if something does, the biotics will issue a spinal injection to boost your cellular repair rate.” Angela explained from the door. She wouldn’t be accompanying them to Paris, so Callen gave her a nod and a swift smile in farewell as she took a seat and strapped herself in.

The flight to Paris was shorter than Callen expected. On the way they were informed that Captain Lacroix, the other Bravo team member, was to meet them on site, as he had been in Chartres for the last two weeks. Callen was excited to meet another team member, but at the same time, she was oddly curious. The man was like a ghost- she hadn’t heard anything about him since she arrived at the Swiss Headquarters.

Once they’d arrived in London, Alpha and Bravo were split up. Callen followed the other Alpha team members into the back of a transport vehicle, gripping the barrel of her rifle as she sat down, and holding onto it securely as she activated her helmet. A blue hologram projected in front of her right eye, and after a moment of buffer, she was greeted by the sour-looking face of Secretary General Adawe.

“Soldiers, you know what you need to do. But I’m here to warn you that you’ll all be under a microscope tonight. Despite the UN’s funding and support, there’s still many governments across the globe that are convinced there’s no need for a group like Overwatch, and will use any excuse to shut you down.” She explained, and Callen took a moment to check the cartridge in her gun and refills on her belt. “So let’s prove them wrong.”

“Our objective is to secure the Russian ambassador before the hostiles do.” Jack explained as the transport pulled up to the side of the lane. Callen followed the squad out, readying her rifle and taking a second to marvel at the towering, iron fence between them and the building.

Jack made the first move, Reyes following him, and Callen and Reinhardt bringing up the back. They stayed with the fence for a few meters, soon turning hard and running inside the gate to the front door or the embassy. As they passed, Callen noted the twisted, warped metal of the gate- the terrorists used full force and just blew it open from the front. _‘These aren’t tha’ kind’a blokes tae mess with.’_

“Hostiles have the Ambassador’s wife and her bodyguard in the second floor office.” Ana’s voice rang out over their comms, and Callen kept that in mind as they approached the door, rifles at the ready.

“They barricaded the main entrance. You’ll have to find another way in.” Came a deep, accented voice, and Callen made the connection that it must have been Captain Lacroix, and that he and Ana must be stationed in the neighboring buildings.

Jack nodded, giving an order to ‘hustle’ and gesturing around the left side of the building. The other three followed, Gabriel and Reinhardt taking cover behind the wall, while Jack and Callen rolled across the lawn, crouching behind an adjacent rose bush. Callen took deep breaths and tried to ignore the prickle of leaves on the side of her face. She kept her finger above the trigger and stock pulled tight into her shoulder as voices rang out further ahead.

Callen looked over her shoulder at Jack for confirmation before leapfrogging forward, Gabriel coming out parallel to her as they approached a side door of the embassy. Holding out her hand to stop him, Callen’s command instincts took over, and she reached up to adjust her hearing augments, picking up on conversation a few meters ahead. Gabriel nodded in understanding, running forward to take cover beside the side stairs as three armed bodies came out from the garden ahead.

Callen rolled to the side as they opened fire, watching from a crouched position and soon flopping onto her stomach as the statue beside her was chipped and pocked by incoming ballistic rounds. Making eye contact with Gabriel across the pathway, the two waited for silence, taking the opportunity to counter attack as the men reloaded their weapons.

Everything happened faster than Callen expected as she and Reyes peeked out from around the corner of cover and fired. Callen released five rounds in total- three into the man on the left, two into the one in the center. They were down as soon as the first round hit them in the chest.

“We haven’t located the Ambassador’s position yet, so for now just work on clearing the building.” Lacroix informed them, voice coming in as a smooth crackle over their comms.

Everyone was silent as they moved toward the side door, but Callen couldn’t ignore the slight shake in her hands and the catch in her throat. Nonetheless she willed herself to keep it together as Gabriel breached the door with a well-placed kick that had enough force to knock a man’s head clean off his shoulders.

“Flash and clear!” Jack commanded as the door flew open, and Callen readied her rifle as he tossed an EMP into the hall. A moment later, the charge went off, flashing brightly and sending out a wave of energy that caused Callen to wince as her hearing augments picked up the static. Reinhardt and Gabriel cleared the entrance of hostiles before they stormed in, scanning down either side of the hall before continuing on.

The embassy was certainly larger than Callen expected, and it took the four of them a while to clear the ground floor of hostiles. The shaking went away after her fourth kill. Callen realized the level of gruesomeness of counting her own kills, but it was a habit. Her old squadron regularly made bets on who’d take down the most- she recalled Anders was often the one to win them, given his affinity for using heavy weapons.

The team split up to search the second floor. Jack and Callen went up the left-hand staircase to search for the ambassador’s wife, while Gabriel and Reinhardt went the opposite way to search for the primary objective. Callen’s senses seemed like they were dialed up as they stalked up the stairs, keeping their heads low and their guns at the ready. Two hostiles were patrolling on the upper balcony, and she and Jack made quick work of them; Callen taking out the first with a swift crack from her stock, while Jack took the stealthy approach and got the second in a headlock, cutting off his air and tossing him to the side.

“Alright Cal, how ‘ya doin’ so far?” Jack whispered as they crept down a side hall. Callen shrugged, loosening her grip on her gun for a moment and examining her hands. She wasn’t shaking any longer, but she still had the lingering feeling that everyone was out to get her.

“Fine so far.” Callen retorted, taking hold of her gun once more. Jack nodded in a silent response, and gestured for her to take the lead. Callen hesitated for a moment before straightening out, continuing down the hallway with Jack behind her. _‘Wha’ ‘es this some sort ‘a test? Jesus, Jack.’_

It didn’t take long for them to find the ambassador’s wife- she was located in a locked office near the end of the hall. Callen was a bit surprised, however, that her captors hadn’t noticed she and Jack were coming, as they’d kicked down every other door in the hallway in search of her. The two of them stood outside the door for a moment, listening to the terrorists inside bantering before deciding to repeat the flash and clear maneuver. Jack kicked in the door and Callen threw in an EMP grenade, waiting for the two men inside to double over before she and Jack took them down.

“It’s alright ma’am, we’re gonna get you out of here.” Jack explained to the woman. Her bodyguard- a tall woman who introduced herself as Ivanna- translated for her, soon thanking Callen and Jack for helping to get them out. Neither of them spoke good English, but she and Jack understood well enough, gesturing for them to follow. Against her better judgement, Callen un-holstered her pistol and handed it to Ivanna.

“‘Ye take this, an’ stay with ‘er, okay?” Callen commanded, gesturing toward the ambassador’s wife. Ivanna nodded, moving to stand in front of the woman and follow behind Jack, while Callen took up the rear of the group. They had managed to lead Ivanna and the ambassador’s wife out to the lawn and to the transport, when everything went to hell.

“Mission compromised- the ambassador’s been taken. I repeat, the ambassador’s been taken!” Ana said hurriedly over their comms. She sounded like she was running, voice shrill and out of breath as the sound of heavy footfalls echoed in the background. Jack took off immediately, running through the garden and toward the back of the embassy where Ana said one of the terrorists had the ambassador. They stopped around the corner of the building, peering into the back and observing an armored terrorist, holding onto the ambassador, a gun under his chin. Reinhardt and Gabriel were nowhere to be seen.

Callen couldn’t hear what the man was shouting because for a moment time seemed to stop. Just as she and Jack prepared to roll out from cover, guns blazing, a shot rang out- a crisp _crack_ resonating off buildings and vehicles as the whistle of a bullet cut through the air.

It felt like ages before Callen finally came back to reality. Though, it wasn’t exactly as real as she thought. As unfamiliar as it seemed, she remembered the moment it happened- the moment she realized that all the stories that Mararid had told her about ghosts and demons were true. That they existed in the form of everything she’d ever wished for. Callen never believed her- it was too inconvenient for her to accept as a child. She remembered blood after the earsplitting _crack_. Blood, deep and red and dotting the side of her face as he fell to the ground. Callen remembered how much she screamed and cried to Niels that he couldn’t leave her.

The last thing remembered before blacking out was the sound of an engine and the feeling of someone pulling her away from where he lie on the ground.


End file.
